Confidences
by scribblingnellie
Summary: At a bad time in their lives, two good friends want to confide in each other. Events taking place after The Reichenbach Fall, S2 EP3, featuring my two Sherlock faves. Chapter 4 is now up. Thank you for reading my first fanficiton story!
1. 1) Greg

1.

Damn it.

Greg put his head in his hands. It kept happening. He'd replay the garbled phone call from John in his mind, he'd keep seeing Molly's abrupt text.

'Sherlock's dead. So sorry Greg. M'

Greg hadn't been able to see him one last time. The memory of arresting him, the anger and frustration inside him was all he could remember of their last encounter. It was eating away at him. He couldn't spend any more time at home. Not in his empty house. His left hand absently strayed to his ring finger, realising too late that the smooth cold of his wedding band was no longer there.

No one from his team had been in touch. Not allowed, that'd been Sally's brief reply to his text about meeting up. How was he supposed to get through it? Work was his life; it'd been the ruin of his marriage and now he had neither.

Greg jumped as his phone beeped. Who'd be texting him?

'Haven't seen you for a while. Are you ok? M'

Molly. He could be honest with her. She could prise the secrets out of anyone with those eyes.

'No. G'

'Greg, what's wrong? I'm worried about you. M'

He stared at her reply, couldn't take his eyes off it. Molly shouldn't be worrying about him, she had too much to deal with. She loved Sherlock, they'd all known. She'd been so sweet in her hopeless crush on him. Well, right up until he'd thrown himself off the roof of Barts. The way Sherlock had treated her pissed Greg off. Why would you want to treat Molly like that? Ok, that was how Sherlock treated everyone, but hadn't he seen how she felt about him? Greg shook his head, stupid question. Give Sherlock a dead body over affection any day.

'I'm on suspension. Inquiry pending. G'

'Meet me. Please. M'

2.

Almost deserted, the café looked warm and cosy. And as far from Barts and the Yard as he could get. It had been her choice. Her face made him stop suddenly when he saw her inside. Molly looked so sad, sitting up the back of the café, hands wrapped around the mug, hat and scarf dropped carelessly on the table. Unshed tears in her eyes.

The bastard, thought Greg as he watched her, he's broken her heart.

Pushing open the door, glancing up irritatedly as the bell over the door jangled, Greg came in out of the freezing December afternoon. Instantly her eyes looked up, straight at him. He couldn't tear his away as he threaded through the tables towards her.

The bastard.

"Oh Greg.." Molly was standing up and hugging him, "..oh I'm sorry. I just.. you looked so sad. I just wanted to…"

She stopped, blushing. The warmth of her lingered on him, the smell of the morgue still clinging to her.

"..no, no, it's okay Molly," Greg said sitting down opposite her, "..it was.. nice."

To be truthful, it was wonderful. Human contact, the first he'd had in a long time. And it was wonderful.

"Thank you," he whispered.

Molly looked up, brows creased, eyes confused.

"Greg, what's wrong?"

"Everything."

"Please," she said reaching across to touch his arm, "tell me."

Those beautiful eyes, her warm soft touch. And her voice – quiet, gentle, almost breaking his heart with its sadness. He could be honest with her.

"What do I do Molly? I don't know what to do."

3.

Three coffees later, he couldn't believe Molly was still there. Sat across from him, listening, smiling. This was much better than sitting alone, contemplating how his life had gone so wrong.

"Molly, you really don't have to stay..." Greg started.

"I want to, honest... I was worried about you... you know after the funeral you sort of disappeared. I thought..."

Molly stopped; Greg saw the look in her eyes. What had she been thinking that made her that concerned for him? That she would even been thinking about him amongst all her own worries. He pushed his coffee mug aside and reached across the table to take her hand, feeling her warmth as he squeezed.

"Thank you Molly."

Her shy smile, the way she avoided his eyes then looked back up at him... it was rather lovely.

Stop it.

What was he doing? He was newly divorced, on suspension, and trying to figure out why their friend had killed himself. Not a time to be thinking things he shouldn't be about Molly Hooper. Greg let her hand go, and picked up his almost empty mug. Sherlock always seem to come into it. Greg only knew about the second affair because of him; his suspension came down to his decision to seek Sherlock's help. And now Molly; their growing friendship revolved around Sherlock and his death.

"Greg..?"

Her soft voice broke into his thoughts.

"Sorry..." he brought himself back to the present moment, to the café that was almost empty and the reason he was there. "I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

"It's ok... I don't mind. I want to help…"

He knew that he could tell her. She understood the way their jobs deeply affected their lives.

"I miss it Molly," Greg ran his hand over his face,"I miss the job... damn it, I miss the bloody rush of it. That's really sad.. sorry, I must be boring you here.."

She touched his arm; he liked it, probably more than he should have.

"No Greg, you're not at all. You need something to keep you busy. Without your wife you want someone to.. ah, I mean, you've got... not that it's any of my business.. sorry.."

"It's empty without her. I know she cheated on me, twice. I know that we argued and slammed a lot of doors and that it's better this way, I just…"

Greg stopped, realising that he'd never talked about it with anyone; the affairs, the shouting, the anger and hurt he'd felt. That he still felt. Perhaps he'd hoped at the time that it would all be ok, that his marriage would weather it and they would go back to like they had been. He looked at Molly, patient and calm as he rambled on.

"It all came one after the other. Sherlock, suspension, divorce… I feel like I'm sinking, Molly. Like I have nothing to hang onto and no reason to."

He heard her intake of breath and felt her hands cover his. Was he really thinking that? Was his life that empty and pointless?

"Shit, I'm sorry.. I am so sorry. That was.. I don't know why I said that. Shit…"

"It's ok. Really, truly it is."

Molly took both his hands in hers. Greg looked down at them, taking in each little scar and freckle. Delicate hands that did such a dark job.

"You can hang onto me," she spoke it softly, almost whispering, "we can stop each other from sinking then."

Jesus."Oh Molly, here's me going on about my problems and you.."

"No, really, it's ok. You need someone and I always seem to be the shoulder people like to cry on."

She smiled and he couldn't help but smile back. This wonderful, tough, pretty young woman whose heart had been so torn apart; she wanted to help him.

"I dunno about the crying, but think it's going to involve a lot of coffee.. thank you."


	2. 2) Molly

1.

_I know he's alive. I'm so disappointed Molls._

Molly couldn't bring herself to pick up the note off the floor. Staring down at it, she tried to regain her breath. Tried to just keep breathing.

No.

Her fingers still burnt from the touch of the paper as she'd held it, as she'd read those words. He'd been here, inside her flat. Propped up on the hall table, the envelope had just her name on it. Confused, Molly had stared at it. Only two people had keys to her flat – Mum and Sherlock. Only they could have let themselves in. And it wasn't in either of their handwriting.

He's been in my flat.

Stomach clenching, her heart beating too fast, Molly dropped against the wall.

He can't have been. Oh god, no.. no..

Sherlock said he was dead. Shot himself right in front of him. What happened? What was going on? Suddenly terrified, Molly leapt to her feet, crashing open every door in her flat. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen. Nothing. There was nobody there. Her heart now racing wildly, Molly began shaking. Jim was alive. Why would he come after her? Why would he want to frighten her? Molly was nothing, a quiet unassuming nobody. What did Jim want?

Scrabbling through her bag, Molly couldn't find it.

"Come on.. please…"

Shaking the contents of her bag onto the floor, she snatched up her mobile as it skidded towards her. Fumbling over the screen, she found his number. The phone shook against her ear as she listened. It kept ringing.

"Please," she whispered into the empty flat.

The ringing stopped. "Molly! Hi. Sorry, couldn't find me…"

"Greg, please.."

"Molly?" Instantly his voice changed "..what's wrong, what's happened?"

Molly breathed deeply, trying not to sound as terrified as she felt. "I need you. Please. Can you come round.."

"God, Molly. You ok? Are you all right?" His voice cracked, not as calm as it usually was. She needed to hear his beautiful calm voice.

"Greg, I'm ok.. I'm ok. I got in and.." her breathing stopped and restarted, she gripped the phone harder, ".. a note, from Jim. In my flat.. inside.. I.."

"Moriarty? Shit. Molly, I'm on my way over."

2.

The screech of tyres brought her back to herself. She could hear heavy footsteps taking the stairs two at a time. The knock on her door made her jump, dropping the phone that had still been gripped in her hand.

"Molly?"

Greg. He was here, just the other side of the door. Hauling herself up off the floor, she unlatched the door and looked straight into the detective's careworn face. In those few seconds, she took in his deep eyes, the downturn of his mouth as he saw her.

"Oh, god, Molly.."

His arms went straight round her. Molly felt them holding her upright as she realised just how scared she actually was.

"I'm sorry Greg, I didn't.. I mean.."

"Shhh."

His chin rested on top of her head, his hand carefully held her neck as she started to let the tears fall. If there was one place in the world where Molly knew it was ok to cry, it was there.

3.

" He said he was dead.. he said Jim was dead.."

Uniformed officers came and went as her and Greg sat at her kitchen table. None of them were from his team. It would hardly have been appropriate to send them. There didn't seem much point anyway; Jim could get into anywhere and leave no trace.

"There was no body. All that blood, but no body... hang on," Greg paused, "_who_ said he was dead? Molly?"

She looked up into his eyes and sharply drew in her breath as her heart jumped. The effect those deep, handsome eyes had on her.

Stop it.

"Sherlock," Molly let his name hang between them. "Sherlock told me."

Sitting opposite her, the strain showing in his face, Greg looked confused. Molly wanted to reach across and run her thumb over his forehead, to wipe away the creases. And she knew she would have to tell him, to cause him more pain.

"How? …Molly, what's going on?"

"Sherlock told me he'd... that Jim had shot himself, in front of him."

"What, before he went up on the roof?" Greg looked completely confused now.

"No… not before," Molly breathed in slowly, "I have to tell you Greg and I'm sorry.. to you, to Sherlock."

"Sorry?"

She had to, she knew it was right. He looked so helpless. It wasn't how Scotland Yard's best Detective Inspector, suspended or not, should look.

"After he fell... Sherlock told me after he fell."

His face, oh god, his face. Molly's heart screwed itself up as he stared at her.

"After he fell?"

"He's not dead, Greg." Molly paused, averting his eyes. No, she had to look at him, had to be honest with this decent, wonderful, intelligent man. "He survived the fall. I.. I helped him."

The look he gave her made Molly ache. He shouldn't feel this, he shouldn't be suffering. Not after what his divorce had done to him, what the suspension was doing to him. Greg brought his rough hand up to his eyes. It was a gesture that she'd often seen him do it when it all got a bit much for him, toughened policeman that he was. Sliding her hand across the table, her fingertips ached to touch his, even if only for a brief second. It hurt to see him distraught.

"Sherlock's alive?"

"Yes.. I'm sorry. I couldn't say anything.. I.."

Greg looked down to see her fingers almost connecting with his. The silence drew out between them.

"You've had to keep quiet all this time." Her took her hand, turning it over in his, rubbing her fingers. Molly closed her eyes, concentrating on his light, gentle touch. It was wonderful. Greg had touched her before - hugs, taking her arm, tapping her shoulder. But this was different. Deliberate, thoughtful. Molly opened her eyes and breathed out.

"I am sorry, Greg. I didn't mean to keep…"

"No, don't be." Still looking down at her hand, now wrapped in his. "Thank you Molly."

Thank you? Now Molly was confused. How was it a good thing that she'd known, that she'd helped Sherlock cover up and lie; lie to those few people that had managed to get close to him and hadn't realised how much they cared until they'd lost him. How was that a thing to be thanked for?

Now he was looking at her. There were tears in his eyes.

"Oh, Greg.. oh no, I'm so sorry.."

The kitchen door suddenly opened; Molly jumped, but Greg didn't let go of her hand. The sergeant cleared her throat.

"Sorry. Ah, we need to take a statement, Miss Hooper. "

Greg pushed his chair back and helped Molly to her feet. Molly held tight to his warm, rough hand. Leaning in, he whispered in her ear, his breath gently tickling her neck.

"You're amazing, Molly. Full of surprises."


	3. 3) Greg

**_Well, the third chapter couldn't wait for me to revise the first! _**

1.

'Morning. You ok? G'

He had definitely said something last night, something to upset her. He just couldn't remember what. Cringing at the sight of the bottles on the coffee table, Greg knew he'd had too much to drink. And he knew he'd called Molly. But that was as far as his memory went.

'Morning. I'm fine. M'

Greg felt terrible. What had he done? Closing his eyes, he tried to recall what he'd said. Damn it, he couldn't.

'I'm sorry. What did I say last night? I feel crap about it. G'

'Stuff. Some nice, some confusing, some worrying. M'

Shit.

'Will you meet me? Please. G'

He waited. Finger tapping the phone, he hung his head, trying to clear the fog from his thoughts. Her soft voice, how she smiled when she laughed. To be near her, to hear and see her made his heart turn over just that little bit. Ok, if he was honest with himself, it was more than a little bit. But he also knew that it wasn't right. He was older; they were both in bad places with their hearts and minds right then.

'Come to the lab. I'm nearly done. M'

2.

Molly was beautiful. Greg stopped at the lab door, just to watch her. There was something about the way she concentrated, the way she immersed herself in her work, in what she was doing, that Greg found rather attractive in this intelligent, strong young woman.

She caught him looking through the glass panel. A small smile crossed her face, then disappeared. Greg pushed open the door.

"Hey."

"Hi Greg. I'm just finishing up. Walk me home?"

So she was still adamant in going back to her flat.

"Shouldn't you stay with your mum for just a bit longer?"

Greg watched Molly shrug herself out of her lab coat. Her eyes met his, the look told him not to argue with her.

"Why should I let someone scare me off?"

Molly gathered up her bits and bobs, shoving them into her bag, not wanting to discuss it. Was she frightened?

"Please, Molly…"

"No!"

Ouch. Greg flinched, stepping back from her. Molly had never snapped at him before. She was perfectly entitled to of course, he reasoned, as it wasn't the first time he'd brought it up.

"..I'm sorry Greg. I.."

Turning her back, Greg was sure Molly was avoiding him. He'd said something he shouldn't have last night, something that had bothered her, that had gotten to her. And he desperately wanted to make it right. Rubbing the back of his neck, Greg watched her grab her coat from the side, struggling to put it on. She was angry. It hurt, he wouldn't deny it. It hurt a lot that she was upset with him.

Bloody idiot, he admonished himself, stupid bloody fool.

"Here, let me help.."

Greg closed the distance between them as Molly continued to entangle herself and her coat. Standing so close to her, he could hear the catch in her breath as he brushed her shoulder. The hairs falling loose from her ponytail brushed across the back of her neck. Greg closed his eyes.

No, leave well alone. It's not right.

Fingers touching his forehead made him snap his eyes open. There she was, staring back up at him, hand gently stroking his face. Greg couldn't take his eyes from hers; he felt he was getting lost in them.

'Did I upset you, Molly?' he asked, resisting the urge to trace his finger across her cheekbone.

'No. Yes… I don't know.."

Pulling her hand back abruptly, Molly stepped away from him. Greg felt his heart drop. He wanted to make it right.

'You were drunk. I've never seen you drunk... well, I mean, I've never heard you drunk… it was.."

"Molly, I am sorry... I..."

She shook her head. Greg wanted to touch her, hold her but didn't. Somehow he knew he shouldn't.

"Don't be. We're both not ok at the moment. I shouldn't have told you about Sherlock," Molly fiddled with her bag strap, avoiding his eyes. "You scared me, Greg. You said about how nothing was right, that you didn't see how to get out of it all."

Shit. He had been drunk. To go there, to think that way, it was scaring him now.

"Molly.."

"I know you were drunk and being drunk can do that to your mind," she paused to look away, "but you really scared me Greg. After all we talked... sitting up late just talking… I thought it was getting better.. for both of us.. I.."

God it hurt to see her upset; it was doing things to his head and his heart that he didn't want.

"Please Molly, please forgive me... I've no excuse for behaving like that. I shouldn't have called you. I didn't mean to scare you, I'd never want to hurt you…"

Crossing over to where she was leaning against the cupboard, Greg held out his hand. Molly stared at it; but she didn't take it. His heart hurt just looking at her, knowing he had frightened her. He turned to leave, picking up his scarf from the desk. Shaking. Greg stopped to look at his hands; he was shaking. He knew how he felt, really honestly deep down felt about her. And he'd stuffed it up. The happiness of the past few weeks crashed down around him in that second. He knew whatever chance there might have been was gone.

Nothing left to lose then, he told himself.

Each step towards the door felt like slow motion. Hand on the door, he stopped and turned to see her watching him. She was beautiful.

"You are the one thing that makes this all bearable.. " he stopped, ran his hand over his eyes, ".. I mean in all this, in everything that's happening, you make it a much better place."

Without waiting, without looking back at her, Greg left the lab. He couldn't look at her. He knew if he did he would tell her; he would tell her that he was in love with her. And that would make it worse.

Damn it.


	4. 4) Molly

**Final chapter finally written!**

1.

'Don't know whether to laugh or swear. G'

'Greg? M'

'Inquiry's off. I'm back in my job. G'

Mycroft. Molly smiled. He may be arrogant, Sherlock's brother and always ever so slightly patronising but he had done what he'd promised. She hadn't wanted anything for herself in return for helping Sherlock; Mycroft had seemed surprised at this. But then as Molly had retorted, no doubt the brothers had something planned if it ever came to the fact that she'd faked a death certificate. That had stopped Mycroft, causing him to give her a wry smile in acknowledgment.

'Wonderful. So happy for you. M'

And that was what she wanted; Greg's happiness. _'You make it a much better place'_. Molly hadn't expected anything to happen between them; she'd hoped for it, but not expected it. Knowing he was still struggling, she hadn't been able to stay upset at him. They needed each other's help. They'd found themselves in a dark place in the aftermath of all that'd happened. Greg's divorce, Sherlock's suicide and Molly's revelation, Jim's note. When Mycroft had appeared at St Barts one day to see her, Molly knew what she would do. Getting Greg his job back, calling off the inquiry, Molly knew that was all within Mycroft's influence.

'Shall we celebrate? Can I meet you somewhere? G'

'Come to the lab, I'm working late. M'

'On my way. G'

2.

The crash of the door made Molly start up from the papers she was ordering on the desk. Pushing the door open with his elbow, coffees in his hands, paper bag held between his teeth, Greg arrived. Molly smiled as he deposited the coffees and dropped the bag, with a delicate thunk - must be pastries - onto the lab table and grinned widely at her.

"Hey Molly, brought coffee and cake to celebrate."

And then he was right in front of her, eyes bright, looking straight into her. Strong arms wrapped suddenly around her waist, Greg lifted her off the ground with a shout, twirling them both around on the spot. Molly laughed, enjoying the sensation of the handsome Detective Inspector lifting her as though she was as light as anything. She could feel his touch through her lab coat, sparks running along her spine. And then her feet were back on the ground and Greg took her face in his hands. Before Molly could even begin to process it, he was kissing her. Her heart felt like it was running laps, her breathing stopped as she felt his strong, firm, gentle kiss. And it felt right; her stomach leaping back flips, her head feeling a little dizzy.

"Oh, god, Molly... I'm sorry, I didn't…"

Greg suddenly broke from the kiss and stepped back; he looked mortified. Molly's heart dropped. He hadn't meant it, had he? She grabbed the table for support as she turned away from him. Everything Molly felt about the wonderful, strong and calm man she had just been kissing crashed over her; her feelings for Greg hit her so hard she felt tears spring to her eyes.

"It's... I..."

And then Molly ran. She dashed out the door, letting it thud against the corridor wall and she ran.

3.

Slumped against the wall, eyes closed, Molly tried to calm her breathing, tried to wipe away the tears that had escaped. She heard footsteps coming from around the corner.

"Molly?"

And then he was there, standing over her as she sat on the floor of the corridor. Looking up at him, Molly felt it again – her back flipping stomach, her heart beating too fast. He smiled warily at her, endearingly, and she knew.

"Can I join you?"

Molly nodded and Greg eased himself down next to her. Not quite touching, but she could feel him there. They sat quietly, neither brave enough to start the conversation they knew they would have. Greg reached for her hand. Molly loved how he held it softly in his, rubbing each of her fingers gently. The gesture gave her strength. Steadying her breathing, Molly searched his eyes. He must know; the way he touched her, held her hand, just like he had in her kitchen. He'd taken her hand then, caressed it, whispered in her ear.

"Molly? I am sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"When you looked at me... after kissing me, I thought you..."

Squeezing her hand, Greg turned to look at her. And Molly definitely knew how she felt about the man who'd been there, who'd helped her through the bad places. And she knew what she wanted to say.

"I just wanted to… please don't panic or anything... I.." Molly looked away but couldn't for long.

"Just to say… you make all this better for me. I... I'm in love with you, Greg. " She felt his hand gently wrap around hers. "I've never said that to anyone. I love you… I know I do because I miss you when you're not there. I check my phone as soon as I get out of bed to see if you've texted me. I hope when I come into work that one of my bodies is your case so that you'll come in. I…"

Then Greg took her other hand and pulled her round to face him. Molly couldn't take her eyes off his as he stared at her. Her heart kept flipping over as he smiled.

"I think it kind of crept up on me, all that time we kept meeting up and drinking coffee. I tried to think it wasn't anything serious but then I'd see you again Greg and…"

Molly stopped . The look in his eyes made her head spin a little; he felt the same about her.

"I love you Molly Hooper. You're a beautiful, strong, gentle, happy, intelligent, sexy woman…"

She'd forgotten to breath. The man who had confided in her, the handsome, silver haired policeman who'd asked for her help and who smiled so gorgeously had just said he loved her. The man who needed her, wanted to spend time with her just talking and whose touch made her skin spark…

Calm down.

Molly couldn't stop herself from smiling.

"Can we try that again… please..." She felt herself drawing towards Greg, "I think we made a bit of a mess on our first go."

* * *

Thank you for reading my first fanfiction story! I hope you've enjoyed it. More ideas and stories brewing.


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